


Beginnings

by xx_ciela



Series: We Met Last Night [3]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Friendships, Feels, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Slice of Life, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22315195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xx_ciela/pseuds/xx_ciela
Summary: Rebecca isn't like most 18 year olds. Instead of applying for retail and living off of the high school aftermath, she has a Bachelor's degree and is applying at the RPD. After an intense interview, she meets a man on the run.
Relationships: Rebecca Chambers/Billy Coen
Series: We Met Last Night [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578451
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Another transformed collection of one shots :D

**6:33 P.M.**

Rebecca’s shoulders drop once she is out of the RPD’s premises. She had gone in for an intense interview mid-afternoon, and now the sky was a blend of indigo and orange. She removes her blazer, unbuttoning the top of her blouse to feel the warm breeze. She could have moaned as it dried her sweat leftover from the interview. A perfect June evening. Cars pass on the street. Children beg their parents for a taste of street food. College students congregate and flirt as they head to parties.

She used to be one of those college students. Too soon.

While most eighteen year olds are either high school graduates or college freshmen, still living off of the residual high school life, she wasn’t. Instead of teetering on the edge of adulthood, Rebecca had been pushed off of that cliff. She has a Bachelor’s degree at eighteen for Christ’s sake! Now she’s looking for a career in a professional field instead of retail.

It was around her early elementary school years that she started not to fit in. She had skipped a few grades, and when that wasn’t enough, she was separated from the other kids to see a private tutor in the library. 

“She’s so young and so mature already!”

“Exceptionally gifted...she could give a good image.”

Rebecca was startled from the honking of a car. During her bitter recollection the sky had darkened further. Taking the lighting of the street lamps as her cue, she began to walk to her apartment. It was the last place where she wanted to be but still being new to Raccoon City she had nowhere else to go.

There were less families on the streets now as students took over. Whenever there was a group ahead of her, Rebecca would avoid eye contact and pick up her pace. Being around people her age does a number on her nerves. If they didn’t judge her by her appearance, they would judge her by the way she spoke. Not to mention her habit of rambling when she’s nervous.

Rebecca lowers her head to the sidewalk as she nears the gas station. She hears the shrieks of laughter before she saw them. Two cars full of people. 

“Hey!” Rebecca doesn’t look up. “Hey, I know you can hear me!”

Rebecca gasps as she was turned around abruptly. She skitters in her pumps and pushes a hand in front of her for balance. The motion made her push back the guy that had turned her around. The people from the cars jeer.

The guy grimaces. “Hey, I just wanted to talk. Don’t be so aggressive.”

“You shouldn’t have grabbed me,” Rebecca defends. “Who goes up to a stranger and does that?”

“Easy Pixie,” he soothes. 

Pixie, that’s a new nickname. 

“You’re cute and I wanted to know if you wanna tag along. The more the merrier.”

Rebecca frowns. “For what?”

“Ya know, night on the town. Booze, J’s, hit up Raccoon Forest.”

“You have heard about the murders, right?”

He adjusts his cap. “Yeah, I’ve heard. That’s why we’re going. We’re gonna find the killer so that we can all be at peace again.”

“I don’t think so.” She starts to walk away. He jogs around her to block her. “Please move. I don’t want to join in, and all of you shouldn’t go either. There is a murderer on the loose and it isn’t safe. It would be best if—”

The guy snorts. “He won’t attack groups. But at least give me your number to catch up later.”

“No.” She tries to move around him but every move she made, he blocked. His friends hoot from the cars. “I’m trying to go home, please! I don’t want to—”

“You talk a lot, Pixie.” He grabs her wrist and when she tries to push him off, he grabs her other wrist. Her blazer falls from her arm. “All I’m asking is for your number. Is that too much?” 

His friends shout from the cars. “She doesn’t want you, man!”

“Told you you couldn’t get it!”

The guy lowers his voice. “C’mon, you makin’ me look bad in front of my buds.”

“No,” Rebecca repeats. She grits her teeth when she felt him crushing her wrists. His eyes hardened, and Rebecca thought that she should have gone to Central Station from the beginning. 

Unknowingly to them, a man approached and looked between the two. As he did, the people in the cars quieted down and whispered between them. 

“There a problem here?”

Rebecca turns at the sound of his gruff voice. A tall man, arms crossed and staring at the guy holding her wrists. He’s not looking at her but she felt intimidated by him, shrinking into herself.

The guy still didn’t let her go. “This is between me and her. Move along, buddy.”

The man moved alright. He moved closer to them, practically towering over the guy in front of her. The street lamps allowed her to see the layer of sweat forming underneath his cap. 

“This is now between you and me,” the man says. “I heard her say ‘no’ loud and clear from across the lot. If you can’t accept her answer then you’re dealing with me, buddy.”

After a heated glare, the guy throws her wrists back to stalk back to his friends. His friends made no noise as they start the cars and drive off. 

Rebecca turns to thank the man. He crouched down to pick up her blazer from the ground. As he stood, she marvels at his height. He handed it to her wordlessly and that’s when she saw the huge tattoo scaling all over his arm and disappearing into the fitted shirt he wore. She took it and met his eyes. A flare of mixed feelings went through her.

“Thank you,” she stammers. Her face grew warm as she tried to think of what else she could say. The temperature skyrocketed when his eyes move down her body. “Uh…”

“Your wrists are red.”

“Huh?” She held out her wrists into the light provided from the gas station. A bracelet of red smudges wrapped around them. “Oh, yeah. I wasn’t expecting him to grab me. I really let my guard down.” 

The man curtly nods. He walks past her without saying anything else. Rebecca stares at his back. She should let him be on his way. He already helped and she didn’t want to be a bother. A part of her, though, didn’t want to let him go yet. Her stomach ached, and she had an idea.

“Wait!” She winces at the crack in her voice. The man stops walking and turns halfway. Rebecca clears her voice as her pumps click on the sidewalk. “Sorry, but how about I treat you to dinner? As thanks, of course. There is a place nearby here. The greasy spoon of Raccoon City. That is, if you don’t mind?”

The man looked back to where he had been walking. Rebecca let her shoulders drop, thinking that he would still continue. She shifts her weight, waiting for his rejection, when he finally responds.

“Alright, lead the way.”

She couldn’t help the smile on her face. Rebecca reaches his side, hand out, “I’m Rebecca, by the way.”

His calloused hand engulfs hers. “Billy.”

**8:17 P.M.**

Emmy’s Diner is a local hot spot. You’re not a true Raccoon City native until you had a bite to eat there. Or the restaurant across the street. Being located in the downtown area, next to a cinema, it can fill up to the brim with patrons. Especially now in late June with students from Raccoon University being out for the summer and tourists visiting the area. 

They were lucky enough to be seated right away, towards the back of the place. They had walked in silence and were still shrouded in it as they reviewed the menu. It didn’t feel awkward to Rebecca, a first in her lifetime. 

“I can’t believe you ordered mac n’ cheese,” Billy says, nose wrinkling. 

Rebecca frowns, looking from her plate in front of her to him. “What’s wrong with mac n’ cheese?”

“It’s orange.”

“Cheddar makes it look orange.”

“More like the food dye.”

The waitress brings over his plate. Rebecca points her fork at his food. “Who orders spaghetti and meatballs in a diner?”

“I do.” He twirls his pasta. “Better than getting sick from eating dye.”

Rebecca sticks her tongue out. “I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Yeah, a long time.” His sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re such a kid.”

“I am not!” she says indignantly. 

Billy didn’t respond as his mouth was full. However, he did give her a “yeah, right” look and poked her forehead from across the table. The action annoyed her, and she pouts.

The corner of his lips lifted. “That makes you look more childish.”

Rebecca stops pouting and focuses on her mac n’ cheese. It feels bittersweet to have Billy call her a kid. On one hand, it made her feel her age, like she was finally doing something right and belongs with everybody else. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be a kid to Billy. She wants him to see her as an adult. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he sighs. “I’m messing with you.”

“I know you are but,” Rebecca raises her eyes to the ceiling, looking for the words for him to understand, “I don’t know. I’m glad I can still be seen as a kid but I also want to be treated as an equal.”

“Still?” His eyes roam her face. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

He was stoic until his face broke to laugh. He covers his smile with his hand and tries to choke down his laughter. 

“I’m almost nineteen!” Rebecca says, face flushed red from his unexpected reaction. 

He calms down, his face amused. “You’re still a kid, Rebecca—wait, let me finish!” He holds up a hand to stop her from throwing an orange glob of macaroni at him. “From just talking with you, I know you’re mature than most. Even more than the dickhead and his friends from earlier. You have some of my respect.”

“Only some of it?”

“You’re easy to tease.” She took one of his meatballs. “You’re a growing girl, you need it more than I do.”

They finish up the rest of their meal in comfortable silence after Rebecca kicked him from underneath the table. Billy had gone to the restroom while Rebecca went up front to pay the bill. A tapping at her shoulder prompted her to turn around. Her back straightens up at the sight of the man in front of her. More of the sight of the uniform he wore than who he is.

“Hey, did you come in earlier today for an interview at the RPD?”

“Uh, yeah, yes, I did,” Rebecca fumbles. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.”

He holds out his hand. “Chris Redfield, S.T.A.R.S.”

“Rebecca Chambers.”

“Anyways, I recognized you because Wesker kept you longer than the others.”

“Is that good or bad?” She starts to wring her hands.

“He’s a weird guy so I don’t even know.” A cheering grin slipped onto his face. “Just don’t sweat it, okay? The position you applied for is competitive but I know you’ll be fine.”

Rebecca smiles. “Thank you, it means a lot!”

He took her hand in his again. “Good luck!”

He strolls to a table where a redhead sat at. When he was close enough, she stood up and fiercely hugs him. The other neighbouring tables stare at them. Rebecca assumes it’s because of the emblem of the uniform showing S.T.A.R.S. Special Tactics and Rescue Service, an elite squad at the Raccoon Police Department. 

Rebecca waits for Billy outside of the diner. She was leaning back against the building as she people-watched. The bells from the door ring as someone came out. Rebecca smiles at him when he spots her. It fell when he started walking away from her.

She calls out to him, in hopes of him slowing down. She follows him when he didn’t. Rebecca felt confused. Why was he acting like this? The confusion boiled into anger, and despite wearing pumps, she jogs up to block his way. 

“Hey.” Billy sidesteps her and she picks up her pace to match his. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you avoiding me now?” He doesn’t even bother to look at her. “Talk to me!”

He spins to face her and she stumbles to a stop. He glares at her. “Don’t bother me, alright? You should head back before you get into trouble.”

“What trouble?!” Rebecca yells to his retreating figure.

The switch in moods frustrates her. The most normal thing to do is to let him go. She already thanked him and he’s just a stranger that she’ll probably forget about. Yet for some stupid reason, Rebecca didn’t want to.

**10:09 P.M.**

Rebecca could only imagine the huge blister she’ll have. Her feet were killing her. She can blame herself for still following Billy. A selfish part of her also blames him for suddenly being a jerk. They had walked from Emmy’s closer to Circular River. Across the river, stood illuminated Raccoon University campus. They had come quite a distance.

Billy abruptly stops. Rebecca waits for him to do anything, to turn around. Nothing. She clenches her jaw and wills herself to go up to him. 

“Look, I—”

He didn’t get to finish. Rebecca stood stunned at what she did. Her hand tingles from how hard she slapped him. She didn’t feel herself make the movement at all.

“Oh my God!” One of her hands flies to her mouth, while the tingly-feeling hand gently touches his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn’t think and…”

Billy grabs her hand from his face and lowers it. “Stop saying ‘sorry.’ I actually deserved that.” Her face was heavy with guilt and he sighs. “My bad that I changed up on you all of a sudden but you really shouldn’t be following me. I suggest you head on back and forget about me.”

“I can follow if I want, free country.”

“That’s stalking.”

“There’s no charge against stalking.”

“Until you start harassing me.”

Rebecca narrows her eyes. “Am I harassing you?”

A smile toys at his lips and Rebecca teases him.

“Not really. Not yet, anyways,” he says. His voice takes on a serious tone. “Seriously, Rebecca, you shouldn’t be associating yourself with me.”

“If you tell me why,” Rebecca says, “I’ll leave.” She wraps her fingers around the hand he still hadn’t let go. “I need to assess how dangerous you’re making our acquaintance be.”

His eyes do not waver from hers. Normally, she would avert her eyes at such intense eye contact but, weird as it is, she wants him to trust her. 

“Alright.” He lets go of her hand, looking around them, searching, and then walking at a pace Rebecca could keep up. Rebecca winces at the pain lancing from her feet to her calves. 

“That cop in the diner,” he says, “did he ask you anything?”

He’s talking about Chris. Rebecca remembers their conversation earlier. “He didn’t ask anything. He did wish me luck on my interview.” Rebecca turns her head up to see Billy’s face as he wasn’t responding. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you a cop?” He stares straight ahead.

“Not really, not yet, anyways. I went into the RPD for an interview earlier today, that’s where the cop from the diner, Chris, recognized me from.” Her eyebrows scrunch together. “Really, Billy, is something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“That’s not fair. You storm off without another word, then you agree to tell me why you did, then you decide not to? Is it because of my interview at the RPD? You don’t trust me because of that?” 

Billy’s silence annoys her. Instead of walking beside him, she moves closer to the railing along the sidewalk. The dark river moves slowly, and she concentrates on the water lapping against the concrete. She does some deep breathing that she learned from a yoga class. 

A stranger doesn’t trust her. It shouldn’t bother her, it’s crazy that it does! They literally met hours ago and know nothing about each other. She could see the reasoning why he doesn’t want to tell her. He must think that whatever he tells her, she would report it to the cops. She also hasn’t told him anything about herself. The position for the interview.

They had still been walking. Although Rebecca had slowed her pace considerably, Billy had matched it and stayed aligned with her so they walked together despite the chunk of space between them. 

Rebecca closes up the space, still leaving some in between. “The interview was for the medic position.”

“What?”

“If I get the job, I would mainly work as a medic aside from some police work,” Rebecca explains. “It’s a job that would actually help me in funding for a medical degree, which is what I want. If you think I will report you for whatever you say, I won’t.” She catches Billy’s eye. “What you did earlier for me, at the gas station, shows that you honestly aren’t a bad person.”

His hands slide into his jean pockets. “You really think by saying all of that I will tell you why I’m trouble?”

She felt like she was caught, her cheeks flaming. “Did it work?”

“I’m on the run from the military police,” he says simply. “I was court-martialed and placed on death row for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“What was the crime? If you don’t mind answering.”

One of his hands scratches the side of his neck. “I used to be a Marine Lieutenant. We were sent to Africa to attack a village that was thought to be a guerilla training ground. The drop-off coordinates were wrong so the whole team had to cross hostile territory to get to the village. Counting me, only four of us survived.

“We reached the village to see that civilians lived there. Our commanding officer ordered them to be executed. I refused and was held down while his order was carried out.” He looked up at the night sky. “Twenty-three dead, and he framed me and bribed the other surviving Marines to keep quiet.”

Rebecca struggles with what to say. “It might mean nothing but I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“It happened and there’s nothing I can do to go back and change it.” His head lowers from the sky, his eyes glazed. “The best thing for me to do is to not forget about it and continue on. I definitely won’t die for somebody’s lie.”

Rebecca reaches across the space between him for his hand on his neck. Her sweaty hand wraps around his and she gave a hopefully reassuring squeeze. 

She apologizes, her gaze on his tattoo than his eyes. “Sorry, I’m really not this impulsive. I do want you to know that I believe you.”

Her stomach somersaulted when his fingers squeeze back. “Impulsive is good.”

**11:58 P.M.**

They had walked aimlessly by the river. At one point they stopped to lean on the rail and watched Raccoon University from across the river. They talked about small things from favorite colors to astrological signs. Even though he rolled his eyes, his relaxed posture didn’t escape her. Majority of the time was spent in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company. It had been so long that Rebecca enjoyed a moment like that.

“So, when were you planning on telling me that you’re in pain?” Billy asks as they finally made it to Raccoon Street. Up ahead, around the bend, is Raccoon Station.

Rebecca involuntarily flinches. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve been in service before, I know how someone looks like when they’re trying to hide an injury. Don’t even try to lie to me.”

“I have blisters from my shoes,” she huffs. “I would stop and show you but I don’t think I’ll be able to walk again.”

“Well, do you live nearby?” he asks, scanning their new surroundings. He wouldn’t say but Rebecca felt he was keeping a lookout for the police. 

“Though I don’t know what your intentions are, not even close.” Rebecca smiles slyly as his head spins over his shoulder. 

His lips quirk and he faces forward again. “I’m flattered, doll-face, but you’re too young for me.” 

“Yeah? How old are you then, grandpa?” She emphasized “grandpa.” 

He turns around causing Rebecca to stop. “How old do I look like, kid?”

She examines him, leaning her weight one one pained leg. He is definitely not graying. His hair is still a rich black. The only wrinkles on his face, that she has seen, is when he frowns and smiles, his eyes crinkling when he does. From the fitted shirt he wears, a blind man can tell that he is physically fit. Sinewy muscle from years of being a Marine. He also has attractive hands; strong, calloused, long fingers.

“Twenty-four, final answer.”

“I’m twenty-six.”

Rebecca gasps dramatically, bringing her hand to her mouth. “My God, you’re almost thirty!”

“Flirty thirty,” he jokes, before becoming concerned again. “Seriously though, we need to get you some bandages.”

Rebecca nods her head. “Yeah, it’s unbearable now that I’ve stopped walking. It’s your fault.”

He held out his arm. “Know any pharmacies open around here?”

She waves off his help. “I can still walk. Follow me.”

Unfortunately, the pharmacy was on the corner of Raccoon and Ema Street. It didn’t take long for Rebecca to accept Billy’s help. He sat her down on a bench across the street from the St. Michael Clock Tower. He didn’t keep Rebecca waiting long. He was leaning down to put the bandages on her when she stopped him.

“Trust me, you’ve done enough,” she assures him.

He leans back against the bench, gazing at the lit up clock tower. Rebecca slips off her pumps, wincing. The blister on her left heel had popped and left a bloody mess behind. The one on her right was close to bursting. Her toes glowed red and throbbed. 

“Probably should’ve got some gauze, too,” Billy mutters.

“It’s alright.” Rebecca unwraps a bandage. “I’m not gonna miss these shoes anyway. I can get another set of these death-traps from Payless again.”

She doesn’t put on her shoes after covering her blisters. She wants to let the blood circulate back to her feet. She thanks Billy while flexing her feet.

“Earlier,” Billy starts, “you said you got interviewed for the medic position. Is that as an assistant?”

“No. The position is full-time medic for S.T.A.R.S.”

Billy frowns. “I haven’t been in this city for too long but I know that’s an elite group. You’re eighteen, don’t you need more experience?”

“I graduated with my Bachelor’s in December. One of my professors recommended I move to Raccoon City because of the Umbrella Corporation. She said they are always looking for scientists.” She glances at Billy to gauge his reaction. She couldn’t. He kept a neutral face. “No reaction?”

“I kind of am surprised. I knew from talking with you that you’re mature but I didn’t expect you to have a degree already. How’s it like, being so smart?”

Rebecca shrugs. “Not so great. Since a young age I’ve been isolated. I’ve skipped a few grades and had a private tutor. I didn’t really do any sports, go to cheesy dances, or have a solid friendship.” She stares at her feet, rotating her ankles. “Sometimes I feel that I missed out on a lot. I entered the adult world way too fast. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I got my Bachelor’s. I do want my medical degree and become a doctor. Sometimes I wish that I wasn’t so ‘gifted’ as my teachers said. I want to fit in.”

“That’s rough,” Billy comments. “But does it really matter that much?”

“Well, yeah,” Rebecca insists. “Growing up, before I slept, I would imagine my life as one of those teen movies. I wouldn’t be so anxious around others and I would have a group of friends to go around town with and be stupid.”

“You are stupid.”

“Billy, please—”

“You’re stupid to think that life should revolve around something small like fitting in.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I remember at your age thinking that it was all about shit like that—cliques, status, whatever. It’s tough to keep up an image to please others. Towards the end of high school I stopped caring about my image. After that, life became much better.”

Rebecca drums her fingers on the bench. “I suppose so. I assume you used to wear a letterman jacket, so it was easy for you to stop fitting in.”

Billy rests his arm behind the bench. “Why do you assume that?”

“I assume you played sports making you popular and reliable to others. When you decided to stop, it didn’t matter because people still had that respect for you as before. I bet they thought, ‘it’s just Billy being good ol’ Billy.’”

A throaty laugh escapes his lips. “You had the first part right. I used to wear a letterman and be that goody-two shoes boy. They didn’t think it was good ol’ Billy when I stopped with the jock lifestyle. They didn’t think anything at all.”

Billy doesn’t let her reply, nodding his head at her feet. “Good to go, kid?”

Rebecca could still feel the grinding of skin through the band aid when she slipped on her pumps. She holds onto his proffered forearm and lifts herself from the bench. Her attention falls to the illuminated clock tower. She grimaces at the time displayed and knew she couldn’t keep walking around with Billy all night. She wishes she could. 

An idea worms its way into her head. Never before she would have considered it.

“You know, the tram stations won’t open until five,” she carefully worded. “You can rest at my place until it is time.” Billy bites his lower lip, and Rebecca begins to lead, tugging his forearm. “Don’t flatter yourself, grandpa. You need rest more than sex.”

She warms at the sound of his laugh behind her.

**1:25 A.M.**

Rebecca digs through a drawer in her bedroom. Her parents had stayed with her the first week she moved in. They intentionally left some of their clothing behind in one of her dresser drawers. Their excuse: “For whenever we drop by unannounced.”

Rebecca persuaded Billy to take a shower. Since he plans on leaving, it could be awhile before he could have a hot shower. She pulls out a change of her dad’s clothes and hope they would fit Billy. She picks up the extra shirt she had on her bed and leaves her bedroom. The shower could be heard through the door. Rebecca knocks and sets the clothes before the door, leaving to change into her PJs.

The bathroom door opened while she was in the kitchen. She turns around with mugs dangling from her fingers and a canister of instant coffee. Billy stands at the doorway, tugging the hem of a blue T-shirt.

“I’m glad it fit,” Rebecca says, setting the mugs and coffee on her small table. “I don’t really have much of menswear lying around.”

“I kind of figured,” Billy mumbles. Rebecca gestures to him to sit at the table, and she turns back to the whistling kettle on the stove. “Whose clothes are they anyway?”

“My dad’s. The shirt you’re wearing right now was my pajama shirt.” Billy’s head drops down to the shirt. “Don’t worry, it’s clean.”

They sit in silence after filling up their mugs. Billy notices the amount of sugar and cream Rebecca poured into hers. Rebecca taps her nails against her mug, watching Billy. He catches her gaze over the rim of his mug, raising an eyebrow.

“What?”

“What did you mean when you said ‘they didn’t think anything all?’”

His hand comes up to rub his mouth. “What it means—they didn’t care. Just as easily as I drifted into their lives, I drifted out. That’s how I learned that it was only the image mattered and not myself.”

Rebecca’s brow scrunch.

“I was a nobody until they saw the attention I was receiving through sports. I became a nobody again when I hung up that letterman.”

Rebecca mashes her lips together before softly saying, “You’re not a nobody to me.”

He looks at her thoughtfully. “You know a lot about me than most after we just met a few hours ago. You’re also the first in a long time that I’ve had a great conversation with. I like the way you are, Rebecca.”

She tosses and turns in her bedroom. Billy’s voice on saying he likes her keeps her awake. Being restless in bed isn’t doing it for her. She decides to get up and get a glass of water. 

Billy took the couch no matter how much Rebecca said he could sleep in her bed. His figure rises up and down in the dark. After getting her water, she hovers over him from the back of the couch. Even in his sleep he still frowns. 

She comes around the couch and settles herself on the carpet beside it. Setting her glass away from her, she leans her head near his elbow, her eyes tracing his face. Why did she meet an amazing person who will have to leave so soon? In such a short amount of time, Billy also knows her more than most.

Rebecca fell asleep like that.

**4:50 A.M.**

Billy isn’t letting Rebecca accompany him to the tram station. He has already caused her enough trouble. If she’s trying to work for the R.P.D. he doesn’t want her to be seen with the likes of him. His body woke up without an alarm, the need to be on the move being his alarm. 

Billy had froze on seeing Rebecca kneeling next to the couch, her head resting on his arm. He didn’t want to disturb her. Since he had met her, his subconscious had been screaming at him that this is an eighteen year old girl, a kid, he shouldn’t be messing with her. And Billy will not.

They now stood in front of her apartment complex. It wouldn’t take long before the sun would rise and Raccoon City will be up with it. Billy’s skin goosebumped from looking at Rebecca, her arms around herself. Billy is terrible with goodbyes. 

He holds out his hand. Rebecca doesn’t bother with it and instead lunges into him. He doesn’t stumble and hesitantly squeezes her against him. Her scent is attacking him from everywhere. The same scent on the shirt she gave him. 

Rebecca leans back, one of her hands on his chest. Billy wonders if she wants to feel his heartbeat when a snapping sound brings his attention to her hand. His dog tags. 

She smirks, her eyes set. “Sorry, impulse decision.”

Billy smirks. “Impulse is good.” 

They reluctantly part. Billy walks backwards, his eyes never straying from the sight of his dog tags around her neck and her firm salute.

**One Week Later**

While other eighteen year olds were living off the high school high, Rebecca had been pushed into the adult world. Two days after her interview, she had received a call from Enrico Marini to congratulate her on being the S.T.A.R.S. Bravo team’s new medic. A loud squeal of relief ripped from her after hanging up.

While she did get in, thanks to her extensive knowledge in chemistry, she still had to condition the physical aspects and learn to deal with the loads of paperwork of her new job. She was nervous the first day, meeting her leader Enrico and being placed under wings of Richard Aiken. Richard had taken to introducing her to both teams, Alpha and Bravo. Everyone, aside from Chris Redfield, were shocked at her age and at the position she was hired for. 

Chris had patted her on the back and said, “I told you not to worry.”

Rebecca threw away the paper towel that she used to wipe her face. Richard had dragged her out of the office to train her.

“Not bad today, Becca!” He uses his T-shirt to wipe off the sweat around his mouth. “You’re becoming quite the expert in self-defense.”

Her mind flashes to the night she met Billy. Her guard had been down around the boy. “Thank you. I still keep having trouble lifting, though.”

Richard waves his hand. “Don’t worry, it’s not for everyone but it takes progress. We can find an alternative method to get distance between yourself and your target next time.”

Rebecca nods as they walk to the locker rooms of the gym. “See you back at the station!”

Summer was picking up. There were more children and teens wandering the streets. Tourists went about in packs to gawk at landmarks and head into Raccoon Forest to hike despite the dangers. The temperatures were skyrocketing and the atmosphere was becoming humid. She tugs on her uniform collar to cool down. The shower she took in the locker room now belonged in a long ago sweet memory. 

Her knuckles rubbed against metal. The dog tags stuck to her sweaty skin. Rebecca does her best to conceal them beneath her clothes. The vest that S.T.A.R.S. requires her to wear helps keep them hidden. Since Billy left, she hasn’t taken them off except to shower and when she is in the gym. 

While she may have gotten hired, her life didn’t magically change. She still tenses up when she is around others her age. She still tries to please other people. A couple of days after being in S.T.A.R.S. Edward Dewey had told her to “ease up” after she tried to do everything Enrico and Wesker told her to a T. 

Rebecca also notices she became more self-aware of her trying to fit in, as Billy put it. She can hear his voice calling her stupid. She would do a couple of deep breaths, gently pat the dog tags on her chest, and continue on.

Kenneth Sullivan greets her with a file upon her return. “Enrico is out but he wanted me to give you this.”

“What is it?” Rebecca opens the file and was met with those sharp, upturned eyes.

“An escaped ex-Marine,” says Kenneth. “He was to be transported to Regathon Base but was gone by then. Keep the file and have your eyes open. His last known whereabouts was at a gas station near Central Station about a week ago.”

Rebecca flips a few pages to the grainy capture of Billy. From the angle of it, his body was half turned in the direction of the station. His tattoo was in full view. His head was turned to the side as he looked off camera.

_ There a problem here? _

She flips to the next page but that was the only picture of him. “Is this the only one?” she asks, hoping her voice didn’t waver.

“Unfortunately, damn gas station needs to fix their other cameras,” mutters Kenneth. “We need more intel on him. You know ask around and get any eye-witness accounts, find out where he could’ve gone.” He nudges his elbow against her shoulder. “Easy first assignment for you. As long as you don’t come into contact with this guy.”

Rebecca closes the file and looks up at him, grinning. Her hand rests on her chest, above the dog tags ingrained in her skin. “You can count on me!”

**Author's Note:**

> I hardly see much of this ship, so I decided to contribute. I'm not satisfied but please accept my amateur writing.  
> I've been more active recently as unfortunately I won't be in the next few months.


End file.
